Pain. That was the first thing I felt upon waking up, a dull, throbbing pain in my head. It was followed closely by the realization that I was waking up. I was confused by this. I had no memory of going to sleep, or even being in a place where one might conceivably go to sleep. I don’t even know where I am right now.
The prospect of opening my eyes was a scary one. Not only would it make my headache worse, but there is a distinct possibility that I may not like the place I wake up to. But that only makes it more important that I open my eyes. I steeled myself for the inevitable stabbing pain that light would bring and forced my eyelids apart.
No pain. Well, no more pain. My head still hurt, but my surroundings didn’t make it worse. It was dim, nearly dark. I could see a thin ray of sunlight streaming through a slit in the curtain, dust dancing in its wake as it provided barely enough light to see by. Judging by the steep angle of the light, it was late in the morning, or early in the evening. Either way, the morning is pretty much gone, leaving me with the feeling that I forgot something important. Seeing as how I don’t remember where I am or how I got here, that feeling is most likely correct.
I let my gaze wander the room, searching for anything that I could use to find out where I am. A nightstand stood near the bed. Several items sat on its wooden surface, a lamp, a book, an empty glass, and a few other night-standy things, but nothing caught my eye. Except for the alarm clock. It was overturned, dents marring the brass bells atop its silver body. I picked it up. The glass was broken and the minute hand was bent, but the time was readable as six forty-seven, the exact time that I set my alarm for every morning. It’s something I picked up from a friend while growing up in an orphanage in Cloudsdale. Get up a few minutes before everpony else, get ready for the day, then stay out of the way as all Tartarus breaks loose in the washroom. Thanks to that habit, I now know that I planned to fall asleep and wake up here, even if I was apparently reluctant to wake up.
But, where is here?
I leaned forward to turn on the light. I didn’t really want to, but being able to see may shed some light on where I am. As soon as my head left the pillow, I felt something close around my throat. Instinct took over. I jerked my head back and threw a hoof to my neck to grab whatever was trying to choke me. I came away with a hoof-full of ribbons, soft, satiny ribbons. I looked down at them. There were three of them, brightly colored and edged with gold thread. I gave them an experimental tug. A weight shifted against my back, but there was no other movement. Cautiously, I pulled the ribbons from around my head and mane.
The weight I felt was a group of three medallions, one for each ribbon. They were about as big around as my hoof and made of gold, or a similarly colored metal. Each one was inscribed with the inscription, “EMAC.” That could only stand for the Equestrian Martial Arts Championship, one of the biggest tournaments in Equestria, held every four months. It was held in Las Pegasus this time. I remember, I went to it. I was one of the competitors. I started turning over the medals, the side opposite “EMAC” inscription should have a description of the competition and ranking that the medal represents. The first medal was from the forms competition, and showed a rank of fourth. I’m surprised I did so well, forms are my weakest point. I always feel nervous about ponies watching me, and that’s all they do during that part of the competition. The second medal was for weapons, second place. The weapons competition is broken up into three parts, sparring, demonstration, and forms. Everypony is scored in each category, then the scores are averaged to determine final ranking. I always do better at the weapons than I do at forms. The weapon gives me something to focus on besides the stares of the crowd. Two down, the last medal has to be for the sparring portion of the tournament. I wonder how I did?
I turned the large coin around with the utmost care, as if it could bite me at any moment. There were no words on the reverse side, just the images of three ponies in various stances. One was an earth pony, reared up in a boxing pose. One was a pegasus, delivering a flying kick. The last was a unicorn, wielding swords in both mouth and magic. It was a beautiful, intricate engraving, but it’s the meaning behind it that brought a tear to my eye. This engraving is only found on one medallion, the one given to the champion. I did it. I won.
I set the medals down on the nightstand. I still have to find out where I am. From the headache, I’m guessing I already celebrated my victory, even though that doesn’t seem like something I would do. I flicked on the lamp, closing my eyes against the sudden glare. The pain wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The headache must be fading.
When I finally opened my eyes, I realized something. I was definitely not in Las Pegasus. Hearts on the bedposts, bookshelf full of animal books, and a white bunny with a hard stare? This is not my hotel room. How did I end up here? The bunny hopped up to the nightstand and took the medals. Then he started hopping towards the door. Before leaving, he turned around and gave me a paws up accompanied by a smile.
That was weird.
Angel’s never that happy before breakfast. For that matter, he’s never that happy after breakfast either. Unless I make that special deluxe salad he likes, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t make it today. Though I can’t remember for sure. As happy as he was, I must have made something he liked. And if I fed Angel, I must have fed the rest of the animals as well. Why can’t I remember it? It doesn’t matter right now; I’m at home, safe in my bed, with a headache. The obvious thing to do is sleep a little longer, and then sort everything out.
I flicked off the lamp and leaned back into my pillow, letting my eyes drift close as my head sunk into the soft down. I pulled the blanket tight around me. I’m finally home, no more crowds, no more pressure, and best of all, no more thin, hard hotel pillows. Things are good. I rolled over and grabbed for the second pillow.
Things are bad!
No pillow. There’s something else there, something big, warm, and breathing. Calm down, Fluttershy, it’s just one of your animals. Yeah, a pony-sized animal, that has to be it. Maybe I got a Saint Bernard and don’t remember it? Yeah, I’ll go with that.
Forcing myself to move slowly, I sat up and brushed my mane out of my face. My hoof brushed against my right ear. Just for a moment, but long enough to feel something cold. I put my hoof back to my ear. There was something cold and metallic, an earring. There was something attached to it, something soft and-
A feather!
“Eep!”
I didn’t! I couldn’t! I wouldn’t! Did I? No! This is impossible, this has to be a bad dream, or Discord, or something! Anything! I flicked the light back on. My fur’s still yellow, no sign of grey. So, no Discord. I still have a headache. So, no bad dream. This is real, isn’t it? I looked over. The blanket obscured the ponies form, all except for a bit of dark brown mane sticking out at the top. I moved quietly, carefully. I pulled the blanket away. It was a stallion. A pegasus stallion with a tan coat. His darker mane was messy, but a bit on the short side. Overall, he was kind of plain, but also ruggedly handsome.
What?!
I turned my head away quickly, bringing a wave of pain with the sudden movement. Did I really just think that?! Why in Equestria would I- Oh my goodness. It really is the quiet ones, isn’t it? I glanced back over. He was still asleep, sleeping quite heavily too. He was lying on his left side, and I could see a bandage wrapped around his right foreleg. The material was the same gauze that I use on my animals and it was tied exactly how I would tie it. I must have been the one who did it.
I need to turn him over. I don’t want to wake him up, but I have to know. I need to see his left ear. I reached over to turn his head, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The moment my hoof touched him, he started moving. He didn’t wake up, thank goodness; he just rolled onto his back. Now I can check his ear without touching him. I still couldn’t see it from where I was though. I had to lean over him to see. There, on his left ear, was a small golden earring with a small yellow feather attached to it.
I did! I di… I d… I…
…
…
…
“Huh?!” I woke with a start. I must have fainted. Or maybe I’m just waking up. I don’t see the stallion, maybe it was just a nightmare. It must have been a dream. Yes, that has to be it, just a dream. Wow, that gave me a fright. Wait, why is it dark? I turned on the lamp. Or did I do that in the dream? Either way, I can’t see anything.
I got up and walked across the bed to the lamp. Weird, the bed seems larger than I remember. I wonder if that’s from sleeping in that tiny bed at the hotel. Stress sure can do funny things to a pony, and the last few days sure have been stressful. I turned on the lamp and flopped over onto my side.
The blanket grunted when I landed on it.
“Eep!”
The blanket started to move and I froze. I wanted to get up. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to move. A pair of hooves found their way out of the blanket. They pulled it down, away from the stallion’s face. He stared at me bleary-eyed. I stared back. Then he punched himself in the face.
“Ow! My head!” He clasped his hooves to his temples. “Not a dream, ok. Wow, I guess we really enjoyed ourselves after the party.” He looked around the room, moving his head slowly. I can only assume he has a headache as well. “Is this your suite? It’s much nicer than mine.” I didn’t say anything. I wanted to. I wanted to say something, anything. I wanted to scream. He lifted one of his hooves and I watched as it moved towards my face. Why can’t I move?! The hoof brushed a lock of mane out of my face before settling against my cheek. “Thank you. I don’t remember much of last night, so I want to make sure I told you that at least once.” The way he said that, it was so gentle, so soft.
“You’re welcome.” I don’t know how I was able to respond, it just sort of happened. “Wh-what are you thanking me for?” I pushed myself up and away from him.
“For saving my life of course,” he sat up with a quiet groan, “if you didn’t break that guy’s leg when you did, I wouldn’t be here.” He looked down at his own injured leg. “You even patched me up afterwards, one more thing for me to thank you for.” He ran his hoof through my mane. “I guess I- AAUGH!” He jumped out of the bed as if I was surrounded by snakes. His breathing was suddenly heavy and ragged and sweat started to form on his brow. “I, um, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, uh, that is, um, you’re married?” He chuckled, tension pouring out with each little laugh. He ran a hoof through his own mane, hoof brushing against his earring as he did so. “No, it couldn’t-“ He frantically searched the room, probably looking for a mirror. He didn’t find one and instead snatched the broken alarm clock from the nightstand. He held the appliance in one hoof and inspected the distorted reflection in its chrome-plated back. His other hoof was plastered to the earring. “I am? Yellow? Y-you? W-we? What?” He looked over at me. The look of shock on his face started fading, replaced by something else. Concern? He took a hesitant step towards the bed. “Hey, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”
Am I crying? I didn’t notice. “Nothing’s wrong.” It was a lie, of course. This whole situation is wrong! Somepony I don’t know is sitting on my floor, wearing my feather on their ear, I can’t remember anything that happened last night, and on top of all that, he said I broke somepony’s leg. Oh my goodness, I broke somepony’s leg. I hurt somepony. “I-“ Something in my gut constricted in on itself, an unpleasant, twisting tightness. “I’m going to be sick.” I got off the bed and started for the bathroom. My stomach cramped up, stopping me in my tracks. It hurts. I’m not going to make it. My entire body heaved as I fought back the urge to vomit right there.
“Keep going,” a weight pressed against my side, urging me forward, “you can make it.” I fought back another heave. “Just a few more steps.” The bathroom’s right there, right off the bedroom. I’m so close to it. I took another step. “That’s it, keep going.” I can make it! I sped up, reached the door and threw it open. I reached the toilet just as I lost control of my stomach. As I sat there retching, I felt something pull my mane back, holding it out of my face. Then there was a light pressure against my back, slowly moving in wide circles. He was rubbing my back. I wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him not to touch me, but I couldn’t stop gagging on my vomit. Once my stomach was empty, I started coughing. My throat was raw and I was still heaving. I forced myself up and moved to the sink. The toilet flushed behind me. “Feeling better?”
“A li-“ I broke off into a fit of coughing, trying to speak had irritated my already raw throat.
“Shh, shh, it’s ok, don’t force yourself.” He started rubbing my back again as I turned on the sink faucet. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, the circular movements were calming, comforting, a welcome contrast to my bodies fitful shaking. I stuck my head under the water, letting the cool liquid pour over my face and wash away the tears and crust left from being sick. The winding movement against my back never stopped. After a few moments, I pulled my head out from under the refreshing stream of water.
“I’m feeling better,” at least enough to speak without choking. “Um, could you stop doing that, please?”
“Hmm? Oh.” He lifted his hoof quickly. “Sorry, I wasn’t even thinking.”
“It’s ok.” I reached for the mouthwash that I keep next to the sink. “Just, um, do you think you could give me some space? Just a little?” He moved away immediately. “I mean, um,” who am I kidding? “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I mean.” I pulled the top off the mouthwash and tried to pour some into a tumbler. My hooves were shaky, so it ended up on counter top instead. I tilted the bottle towards my mouth. It wasn’t the most polite thing to do, especially in front of somepony else, but at the moment, I didn’t care. I had to get rid of the taste of vomit in my mouth.
The bottle was horribly unsteady as I tried to move it to my mouth. Until a light brown hoof closed down around mine, steadying my grip on the bottle of minty liquid. I looked over at the Stallion beside me. “Sorry,” he said with a shrug, “just let me help, ok?” I didn’t argue. I proceeded to gargle and spit with as much mouthwash as I could. Once the taste of vomit was gone, I stepped away from the sink and just sort of collapsed, letting myself sink into the cool floor tiles. He stood by the sink, still holding the bottle of mouthwash. He looked over at me. “Um, do you mind if I, uh, I mean-“
“The cinnamon one you like is in the cabinet.” He opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. I didn’t pay attention to him past that. Why did I just say that? It’s true that there was a bottle of cinnamon flavored mouthwash in the cabinet, but how did I know he liked cinnamon? I heard a loud spit. I looked up to see him turn around and slump against the floor a short distance away from me. He gave me a weak smile, showing his teeth. There was something about seeing his teeth, I don’t know what. “You like cinnamon mouthwash, but mint toothpaste.” How did I know that?
He lifted his head, a look of confusion on his face. “And you like bubblegum-flavored foal’s toothpaste. But you keep it hidden so your friends don’t find out.” We sat there, staring at each other for who knows how long, unspoken questions hanging between us until he finally broke the silence. “What happened last night?”
Author's Note
A special thanks to Cold Spike for proofreading.
